


Rumour Has It

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [16]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Devilish Eloquence, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Bad Wrong, M/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedikiah doesn't tell his brother about the crazy random happenstance with the mugger in the park, but of course, as life would have it, Roger finds out anyway. As usual Jedikiah comes out of that confrontation with his eloquence fully intact, but his feathers are somewhat ruffled. What better way to smooth them back down than an afternoon spend with wrecking John between the sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



The doorbell rings. That, in itself, is ominous.

Few people brave the unkempt vastness of Jedikiah’s dooryard. Partially because the sign on the fence threatens trespassers with a non-existent Doberman, partially because Jedikiah doesn’t have a private life, and therefore no visitors.

Plus, John is asleep in the bedroom, knocked out by fatigue and pain-killers, so it can’t be him, either.

The doorbell rings again, a shrill disturbance in the up to now blissful calm of early Sunday afternoon.

Jedikiah goes to the door, because if he doesn’t, the bell might ring again and wake John. The boy has enough trouble sleeping as it is, there’s no need for added complications.

This is why Jedikiah, when the bell _does_ ring for a third time (more shrilly than ever), opens the door with rather more force than necessary.

It’s Roger. He’s angry.

Jedikiah comes to this astute conclusion when the first thing Roger does after Jedikiah opened the door for him is hit him in the face. “You jackass!”

Jedikiah gingerly brings his fingers up to his chin. “Ow.”

Maybe he should have contacted his brother at some point during the last week.

Roger growls at him. “You didn’t even _call_ me! I had to hear it from Kennex! In passing! Do you know how that feels?! To hear from the emotionless robot that your brother recently survived a cut to the throat! Do you have _any_ idea –“

Jedikiah rushes forward at this point and clamps his right hand squarely over Roger's mouth. “Quiet!”

Roger makes a few muffled noises against Jedikiah’s palm, more furious than ever.

Jedikiah hisses at him. “You can be as angry as you like with me, but if you wake John, I _promise_ you, I will kick your ass so hard –“

Roger teleports out of his grip. Jedikiah hates it when he does that. Especially out in the open _where anyone could see_.

He turns around to Roger staring at him through the open door from inside the house, his shoulders heaving. “So it’s true.”

It’s difficult to say what’s stronger: the disgusted disbelief on his face or the angry resignation in his voice.

“Most things are,” Jedikiah says, his own voice so placid you could skip stones over it all afternoon. “Depending on who you’re talking to.”

Roger just looks at him, for a long moment, then turns around and walks deeper into the house, directly towards the bedroom. Jedikiah follows him quietly, making no attempt to stop him.

He watches Roger open the door, studies his face when he sees and recognizes John – still asleep.

Roger makes no move to close the door again, and Jedikiah does it for him, then turns and walks towards the living room. He can hear Roger behind him, can feel the indignant righteousness coming off him in waves.

“Well?” he says, once they’re in the living room, the door firmly closed behind them. “How’s the rumour-mill?”

“Don’t,” Roger grunts, anger blazing in his eyes. “He wouldn’t be here right now if the rumours weren’t true. You don’t care enough for any of them to bring them to your home. So it’s not a _rumour_. It’s the truth.”

“Some version of it, certainly,” Jedikiah admits, studying his brother’s angry profile. “Still, I’d very much like to know what people are making of this – what ‘everyone is saying’ so to speak. Gratify me: What do ‘they’ think I’m doing with John?”

Roger narrows his eyes. “Nobody said a word to me. There were just whispers behind my back.”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap, you’re a mind reader.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Roger spits at him. “If you insist: They _think_ you’re fucking him silly, using him, treating him like toy.”

Jedikiah remains calm in the face of Roger's disgust, because this information is nothing if not expected. People are stupid.

“Well,” he says, meeting his brother’s gaze serenely, “I’m not.”

“Then what the hell is he doing in your bedroom, Jed?!”

Jedikiah lifts his eyebrows. “I’m not saying I’m not sleeping with him, I’m merely informing you that the nature of my relationship with John is not exclusively sexual.”

Roger deflates like a sail in calm weather. “What.”

“You’re meant to put a question-mark behind that word, Roger.”

The remark supplies Roger with all the wind he needs. “He is eighteen years old! A kid! How could you do this to him? Were you bored? If you were looking for a challenge why not pick someone who wasn’t so obviously in love with you even before he knew what it _meant_?!”

The words hit closer to home than Jedikiah would like to admit, and he frowns. “I didn’t plan this, Roger.”

“Oh please! You plan _everything_!”

“Well, I certainly did not plan to fall for him!”

They stare at each other.

“Are you telling me,” Roger says slowly, “that you’re the victim in this?”

“Oh please,” Jedikiah scoffs. “I’m no victim. I never was, and I never will be. There _are_ no victims here. John and I are both consenting, legal adults.”

Roger crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Do I have to remind you of the fact that he’s eighteen years old and one of the worst victims of puppy-love I ever had to witness?”

“There’s that word again.”

“That’s because you might not see it, Jed, but what you’re doing to that boy is _wrong_.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Make him miserable? Why? Give me one good reason!”

“Don’t act like this is about his happiness. You know it isn’t!”

“Then what is it about? What else is there?!”

Again, all the wind in Roger's sails vanishes all at once. “You’re usually more selfish.”

Jedikiah shrugs his shoulders. “Oh, I still am.”

Roger glowers at him. “He’s too young for you.”

“I know that, too.”

“You were like a father to him.”

“I am aware. Maybe we’ll role-play.”

For a few seconds, Roger looks like he’ll choke on his own spit. “You’re disgusting.”

“He certainly doesn’t think so. And for the record: That’s all that matters.”

Silence stretches out between them, and Roger's eyes drop to Jedikiah’s neck. “Is it true that he was attacked as well?”

Jedikiah nods. “Yes. We were in the park. There was … a man. With a knife.”

Roger reaches out and carefully touches the fading scar stretching across Jedikiah’s throat. “And is it true that you killed that man?”

“Yes, that’s also true.” Jedikiah holds still, lets his brother drag the tip of his finger from one end of the scar to the other.

Roger just looks at him. “For John?”

“Certainly not for me.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother you at all.”

Jedikiah locks eyes with Roger. “There’s no Prime Barrier stopping _me_ from protecting the ones I love.”

Roger is the first one to look away, drops his gaze to the floor. “I’m not happy with this, Jed.”

“You’re not the one who has to be.”

“Can’t you see how wrong this is?”

“Actually, I can. But I’m also aware of how right it is.”

“But it’s not!”

“That’s not an argument, that’s your opinion.”

“Many people would agree with me.”

Jedikiah grunts. “ _Many people_ are usually no barometer for intelligent and informed decision making.”

Roger sighs, deep and heartfelt. “He’s just too young.”

“Please. He was already far too grown-up when he was twelve, and you know it. Don’t treat him like a normal child – you know he isn’t, no matter how you look at it!”

“There, you say it yourself: He’s a child!”

“Just because I’m an idiot in love doesn’t mean I’m blind to reality.”

Roger groans. “I don’t know whether to hit you or hug you.”

Jedikiah brushes his fingers over the forming bruise on his chin. “Since you already inflicted the one on me, I urge you to skip the other.”

Roger twitches, and Jedikiah knows what’s coming. So he doesn’t flinch when Roger throws his arms around him, but he goes rigid, refuses to relax into the sensation.

He’s not used to being held like this and he doesn’t want to be, either. He never was one for hugs.

“Be careful with him, Jed,” Roger more or less whispers into his ear, and _now_ Jedikiah can relax. Because there’s an underlying threat in his brother’s voice, and he’s always known what to do with those.

“You have absolutely no idea how careful I already am, brother dearest. John is as safe with me as he would be – for lack of a better comparison – with you. So don’t you dare judge us, because you have really no ground to stand on with the way you treat your loving wife and sons.”

That gets Roger to back up fast, and the hurt on his face is almost ludicrous. “That was entirely uncalled for.”

“As is your apparently firm belief that I’m a corruptor of innocent youth. I have no access to your motivations. Neither the ones in your head nor the ones in your heart. So do not, for even one second, dare to believe that you have access to mine – because you don’t. Not with all the mind-reading in the world.”

Roger stares at him, silent and sullen, but Jedikiah is nothing if not used to that. They’ve seldom seen eye to eye over the years – this is just a new bone to grind their teeth on.

“I know that there’s nothing I could say that’d make you change your mind,” Roger finally says, lowering his shoulders in admission of defeat. “And I don’t want to fight with you – not when you really care about him. But please, _please_ , Jed, be careful. You know what the Founder thinks of … inter-species relations.”

His face shortly twitches into a grimace of distaste during the last words, and Jedikiah nods despite himself. “You know me. I’m always careful.”

“I know you,” Roger agrees. “You’re a slippery bastard. You’ll muddle through. Always. I’m worried about John.”

Jedikiah stares at him. He would never say so out loud, but he thinks, that for once in his life his brother might actually have better assessment of the situation than he does.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack leaves shortly after sharing his gloomy forebodings, and the Sunday afternoon returns to being once more blissfully calm.

But sitting in the living room all by himself doesn’t help Jedikiah with shaking the feeling of unease that’s crept under his skin when Jack mentioned the Founder.

Even after all these years, Jedikiah can’t quite gauge the man, doesn’t know how to handle, how to talk to him. That, in itself, is bad enough. Jedikiah _always_ knows these things – it’s his special power, if you like. His special ability – even if it’s not as exiting and flashy as those of the Founder and his kind.

Even without those abilities, Jedikiah would consider him dangerous, and things being the way they are, he’s the only representative of his species that Jedikiah’s actually afraid of.

To make matters worse, he’s _racist_. He’s of the firm belief that segregation is vital to his objective, whatever it is, and he won’t countenance a relationship between a human agent (no matter how far up the food chain) and one of his kind.

Not unless Jedikiah somehow convinces him that this relationship is for the good of the company. He’s rather clueless about how to accomplish that.

The thought that he might have endangered John with his behaviour in Medical – that, by kissing him in public, he might actually have _hurt_ him – is as distressing as it is motivational.

In this case, it motivates Jedikiah to get up from the sofa and find something to do that doesn’t involve fretting about uncertainties.

Maybe the Founder won’t care. Maybe they’ll be fine.

Jedikiah hates maybes.

He leaves the living room and walks down the floor to the bedroom. The vision greeting him once he’s opened that door almost manages to eradicate all thoughts of possible danger from his mind.

John, no longer tortured by his own body’s inability to process the actual temperature, seems to be … _hot_. The comforter is down at his feet, which leaves him bare except for a pair of rather snug shorts.

He’s covered in cuts and bruises, his right thigh still bandaged and resting on several pillows. The afternoon sun has done her very best to heat up the room, and John’s whole body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Jedikiah clenches both hands to fists. He hovers on the doorstep for a few seconds, unwilling to interrupt John’s sleep.

But then, as if sensing that he’s close, John opens his eyes and smiles at him. It’s the smile that draws Jedikiah in, that has him step up to the bed and crouch down next to it.

He doesn’t say anything, because if he did, nothing but an idiotic “Hey” would come out, and he’s already exhausted his monthly quota of those.

John turns his head to keep smiling at him, sweat glistening in his lashes, and Jedikiah starts to feel hot as well. It’s ridiculous and somewhat embarrassing, but he can’t deny that he’s terribly turned on right now.

“Hey,” John says, after it’s been quiet for too long, his voice sleepy and a bit rough.

Jedikiah’s pulse quickens. He won’t say it back, he just won’t.

“How was your nap?” he asks instead, almost proud of the way his voice does _not_ drift into exaggerated levels of sickly-sweetness.

“Lonely,” John answers, honest and impish at once.

Jedikiah kisses him. He’s out of options, at this point.

John tastes like iced-tea and honey. His lips are soft against Jedikiah’s, and he’s as responsive as ever, moans as soon as he opens his mouth, meets Jedikiah’s tongue with his own.

Jedikiah shifts his body closer to the bed, comes up a bit higher, angles his face for better access – deepens the kiss.

John moans again, opens his mouth wider for him and turns on the bed until he can put his right arm behind Jedikiah’s neck and pull him closer.

It’s been too long – for both of them.

So Jedikiah gives in and lets himself be pulled, gets up onto the bed with one knee, leans over John and kisses him for all he’s worth.

He can’t but be conscious of John’s reaction, of the way his body tries to push closer to him although he shouldn’t. John always tries to push closer.

“Please,” John murmurs when Jedikiah draws away, “I just want to …”

Jedikiah shushes him with a brief press of lips on lips. “I know. Try to lie still. We don’t want to upset your leg.”

He straightens while he says it, gets back on his feet. John looks delicious, spread out on the bed like this, despite his wounds. He’s been sleeping better in the last days, the shadows beneath his eyes aren’t quite so deep.

“What do you think about a bath?” Jedikiah asks him, stepping towards the foot of the bed, drawing the comforter off and letting it fall to the floor. “ _After_ , of course.”

“After what?” John asks, because he’s still adorable like that, and Jedikiah places one knee on the mattress again – between John’s legs, this time.

“After I’ve put my mouth on you.”

He says it in a matter-of-fact voice, calm and collected, but when he sees John’s cock twitch in reaction to the words, his own mirrors the move.

“I’d like that,” John murmurs, already breathless, and draws his left knee towards himself, spreads his legs further. The bulge in his shorts is obvious. “I’d really like that.”

“I thought you might.” Jedikiah hesitates, then pulls his t-shirt off. He’s already feeling the heat, there’s no need to be self-conscious about this. John sure isn’t; and with the way he’s staring at Jedikiah’s naked chest, taking the shirt off was obviously the right choice.

It’s still delightfully easy, riling John up. The slightest hint of naked skin, the lightest touch, the softest kiss … each in itself suffices to elicit a reaction – combine them and the boy practically _melts_.

So Jedikiah unbuttons his jeans and then leaves them like that in favour of crawling up between John’s legs. John watches him, eyes dark under half closed lids, licks his lips.

“I’ll be careful,” Jedikiah promises, puts his hands left and right of John’s ribcage. “But not too careful.”

He hears John’s breath hitch when he leans forward, and that makes pressing his mouth to the spot just above his navel all the more gratifying. He can feel the heat of John’s body underneath his own, feels the muscles twitch beneath the skin under his lips.

Working his way up John’s body seems like an odd choice, but Jedikiah thinks the boy’s abs and pecs deserve just as much attention as the rest of him. So he kisses and licks steadily upwards, with the occasional bite in-between.

John tries to keep still, Jedikiah knows he does, but by the time he reaches John’s neck for an especially tender bite, John’s arms come up around him and pull him down until they’re chest to chest.

John’s fully hard now, rubbing up against Jedikiah as firmly as he can manage with only one healthy leg to support his weight.

Jedikiah lies down on top of him carefully, arches his neck for a kiss, and John gratifies him immediately. John’s hands glide across his naked back, up and down, up and down, until they make a rather sudden grab for Jedikiah’s ass.

It makes Jedikiah groan into the kiss, press his eyes shut until he sees stars behind his lids. His cock swells inside his jeans, and he rubs down against John with newfound determination.

John moans appreciatively, squeezing his ass and grinding his hips up, and starts sucking on Jedikiah’s tongue.

It’s not at all what Jedikiah had in mind, but he certainly won’t complain. He loves when John forgets to be timid, when he just takes what he wants – sometimes quite literally.

But this was supposed to be entirely about John – Jedikiah’s supposed to make him _beg_ , to rile him up until he forgets his own name, can’t think straight anymore.

So he breaks the kiss, takes his lips and his tongue away and moves down again. For a few delicious seconds, John refuses to let go of his ass, and Jedikiah chuckles quietly, presses a breathless kiss to the little dip where John’s collarbones meet.

John groans in defeat, lets his hands glide up Jedikiah’s back again, twists them into his hair.

His open jeans slide down on his hips as Jedikiah moves backwards, but he ignores that in favour of dipping his tongue into John’s belly-button. John hisses and tries to move his hips up and off the mattress, but Jedikiah holds him down with one hand, smoothing the other over John’s flat stomach. “Just stay still, darling.”

“Just!” John exclaims, his voice full of aroused outrage. “How am I supposed to, when you … when you …”

He falters, the breath locked in his throat when Jedikiah presses his lips to the firm line of his cock, starts mouthing along over the fabric of his shorts. “When I what?”

One of John’s hands glides out of Jedikiah’s hair, grabs a fistful of sheets instead. “Jed …”

He turns his name into a broken moan, desperate and pleading, and Jedikiah tilts his head, looks up at John from under half closed lids. “Yes?”

John’s chest is heaving with the effort of controlling himself, sweat beading on his pale skin. “Please … please don’t make me beg.”

Jedikiah’s mouth twists into a wolfish grin. “Oh, but darling, you already _are_.”

With that he turns his attention back to John’s cock, mouths once more along the length of it, up and down; he brings his right hand to the spot behind John’s balls and rubs it until John’s fingers twitch in the sheets, and the front of his shorts is soaked with precome.

“Jed,” John whispers, again and again, but the hand in Jedikiah’s hair does not grip any tighter, does not try to control his movements. It’s just _there_.

After a while, when John starts to struggle even with the shortened version of Jedikiah’s name, when he’s dissolved into gasps and moans and an endless repetition of little ah-ah-ahs, Jedikiah decides it’s finally time to get rid of the shorts.

The tip of John’s cock is peeking out of the waistband anyway, leaking onto the boy’s stomach. So Jedikiah pulls their front down to under John’s balls, and then their back to just below his ass.

“Is that better, darling?”

John just whines at him, like a lost puppy.

It gets to Jedikiah, that sound. Because as much as he enjoys John’s utter helplessness in this situation, it’s not what he really wants right now.

“Talk to me, John,” he says, his voice suddenly dropping into a raspy register foreign to his own ears. “What do you want me to do to you?”

John seems too far gone to answer, and Jedikiah lets his hands glide up John’s naked torso while resting his cheek on John’s left thigh. “John?”

John still doesn’t give a verbalized reaction, and Jedikiah gently tweaks his right nipple. “John, darling – talk to me, please.”

The fingers in Jedikiah’s hair twitch, then glide towards the back of his head. It’s a gentle caress, deliberate and careful, and Jedikiah’s gaze zeroes in on John’s glazed eyes.

There’s indecision under all the heat, indecision and the sort of fear that comes from years of not getting what you want – from years of asking for something just to be denied.

Right now Jedikiah would do anything for that fear to vanish from John’s eyes. So he doesn’t ask again for John to talk. Instead he puts his right hand around John’s cock, and lifts his head off John’s thigh to take it into his mouth.

He keeps his eyes on John’s face for his reaction, and he loves the way John’s mouth falls open around an overwhelmed groan, loves the way his lashes flutter shut.

It’s only the second time that Jedikiah does this for John, and it’s been a long time since he’s done it for anyone else. So he takes it slow.

Normally he would close his eyes for better concentration, but John’s face is a study in defenceless pleasure right now, and Jedikiah doesn’t want to miss a single second.

That’s why he keeps his eyes open while he takes him down as far as he can; and he’s concentrating on his performance not quite as much as on the way he can feel his own desire curling through his veins watching John come undone under his mouth and hands.

He could use his free hand to take some of the pressure off, take himself in hand and just jerk off. Instead he uses his left to rub at the spot below John’s balls again – silently urges him to make room for more.

He’ll never know if John understands what he wants from him from the simple touch alone, or if he accidentally read his mind again – or if it’s just pure instinct – but John reacts almost immediately. He moves his left leg, bends the knee and pulls it towards his chest. His shorts are almost overcome by the sudden stretch, and they’re somewhat in the way, but Jedikiah doesn’t really care.

It’s perfect. He draws his mouth off John’s cock to lick at the underside, down to John’s balls and then still lower.

John keens, his left leg comes down again, and his hips shoot upwards.

If Jedikiah hadn’t anticipated the move, he might have fallen off the bed. As it is, he’s merely chuckling to himself, gratified and delighted in a way he hasn’t been in years. “You liked that?”

John’s breathing hard, his whole body describing a tight bow of pleasure, with his head thrown back to bare the vulnerable line of his throat. “Yes,” he murmurs, breathless, “yes, I liked that.”

Jedikiah presses a kiss to his left knee. “Wonderful. Lets get those annoying shorts of yours off, then we can try that again.”

John seems to have some trouble with lifting his head so he can look at Jedikiah. “What about you?”

Jedikiah’s halfway off the bed already. “What about me?”

John’s staring at parts of Jedikiah’s body that are very decidedly not his face. He licks his lips. “You’re still wearing your jeans.”

“And that bothers you?” Standing up on his own two feet is somewhat of a struggle, and Jedikiah sways for all of two seconds before he gets his bearing.

John’s still staring at him. Jedikiah bends over him to tug the shorts down his legs, careful of the bandage around John’s right thigh. “John? Does it bother you?”

“Immensely,” John finally deadpans, and Jedikiah grins up at him.

“Well, we can’t have that.”

So he pushes his open jeans down his thighs and steps out of them, his cock decidedly grateful for the lessened pressure. Jedikiah squeezes it absentmindedly, hears John’s quiet groan, and grins again. “Yes?”

“Just …” John seems to be somewhat lost for words. “Just … Jed, please!”

Jedikiah couldn’t refuse the desperate pleading underlying the words if he tried, but he does take the time to admire the picture of John spread out on the bed like this.

The afternoon sun streaming in through the window has turned his hair golden, set his skin aglow. His cock lies flushed and heavy between his thighs, his eyes are dark with want.

Jedikiah’s own cock twitches in response. “I will,” he promises, his voice scratchy with intent, “just give me a second.”

He gets rid of his own shorts with practised, efficient movements, and leaves them behind on the bedroom floor when he gets back up on the bed.

John watches him, watches every move, and Jedikiah would feel self-conscious if it weren’t for the naked desire in John’s gaze.

“Right back where we left off,” he proclaims once he’s resumed his place between John’s legs. “You want me to get on with it?”

John just looks at him. There’s a sudden gleam in his eyes, and then he sits up, grabs Jedikiah’s face between his hands and kisses him, kisses him, kisses him – kisses him until they’re both breathless, panting into the other’s mouth, lips bitten red and shiny.

It’s as close to an I love you as they’ve ever come, and it makes Jedikiah feel dizzy, the sudden certainty of being guilty of such a vulnerable emotion.

He doesn’t want John to say the words, because if he does, Jedikiah might say them back – and what then?

He pushes John back onto the mattress with gentle determination, keeps him distracted with kisses and gentle bites. He lets his hands roam across John’s warm, smooth skin, revelling in the fact that he’s _his_ , his to take and do with whatever he pleases.

Right now it pleases him to kiss his way back down John’s body, to nib at his neck and lick a swipe across his left nipple, drag his teeth across the soft skin below his belly button.

John’s left hand returns to his hair, doesn’t pull or push, just … _caresses_.

It makes Jedikiah close his eyes, after all, because he cannot look at John anymore, not while feeling like he might break open from inside any second. He puts his hand into the hollow of John’s left knee, and pushes it up until John gets the message and holds himself open for him.

When he licks the underside of John’s cock this time, he makes it a slow drag, puts his hand around the base and rubs his thumb over the head, spreads the precome around.

John’s fingers glide through his hair, far too careful. Jedikiah feels like a stranger to his own body, is not used to the heat in his belly mingling with this annoying ache in his chest.

He lets himself be distracted by the feeling and taste of John under his tongue, by the sounds he makes, the way he’s shaking apart at the seams.

“Careful, this time,” he murmurs before he puts his mouth to John’s opening, “don’t startle.”

John doesn’t startle, and he barely twitches, but he does hold his breath, and the fingers in Jedikiah’s hair grip tightly for a few seconds. It feels strangely good, the sudden burn on his scalp, and Jedikiah licks a sloppy circle around John’s rim.

John whimpers.

Jedikiah stops, his breath ghosting over the wet skin in front of his mouth. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it,” John rasps, too fast, and far too close to saying something else entirely.

Jedikiah bites his lip and takes a deep breath before he continues.

The room falls more or less quiet, after that. Jedikiah concentrates on licking John open, of using his tongue as his weapon of choice in a manner very different from the usual.

John’s hand stays in his hair the entire time, and his fingers twitch every time Jedikiah brushes over a sensitive spot, grip a little tighter. It spurns him on to go deeper, to try and make John come from this – not use his hands at all, only his tongue and his determination.

But once he has John wet and loose, his own arousal is too strong to be ignored for much longer. Plus, his jaw is starting to hurt. So he draws back, and opens his eyes.

It’s rather late by now, and the sun has started to set, but it’s still high enough on the horizon to bask the room in an orange glow.

John’s eyes are a liquid dark blue, staring out at Jedikiah from a flushed, heated face. His whole body looks like it’s on fire.

It’s a good look on John, Jedikiah has to admit. He looks like a cross between a demonic sex-fiend and an advert for defiled innocence – none of which is accurate.

Nevertheless, the visual is tempting – mouth-watering even. Jedikiah clears his throat. “Do you want my fingers, or -?”

“I want you to fuck me,” John interrupts him, and immediately tries to pull both his legs up, offers himself up with his usual lack of shame.

Want comes over Jedikiah like a black wave, shadows his vision and tries to drag him under. He barely manages to stay afloat, grabs John’s right ankle and pulls until the leg is lying on its cushion again.

“As you wish,” he says without even an ounce of irony in his voice – then grabs all the pillows he can reach. Two go under John’s back, another under his right leg to lift it even higher.

John lets himself be lifted and shifted as Jedikiah pleases, and grabs the headboard to help things along. Once he’s positioned in a way Jedikiah deems practical, Jedikiah leans over him to get the lube from the nightstand.

John grabs his wrist. “That’s not … not necessary.”

Jedikiah stares down at him, and the tips of John’s ears redden, but he stares right back. “I’m wet enough. I want to … I want to feel you.”

“You will,” Jedikiah says, voice dark and grim, because John needs to stop trying to seduce him into causing him pain. “You will feel me, _everywhere_ , I promise.”

John lets go of his wrist then, as if he knows how close Jedikiah is to the breaking point, and Jedikiah silently takes the lube off the nightstand, opens the bottle, covers two of his fingers in the clear liquid.

John doesn’t say anything when Jedikiah brings them down to his relaxed hole, pushes them inside. His lashes flutter shut, though, and he tries to move his hips in counterstroke to Jedikiah’s hand.

“That’s better,” Jedikiah whispers when he pulls it back, then moves to slick himself up.

John’s eyes flick up to his, and Jedikiah watches him lick his lips hesitantly.

“What is it?” he asks quietly.

John bites his lip. “I didn’t mean to push.”

Jedikiah looks down at him, notices how John wants to evade his gaze, but doesn’t allow himself the weakness.

“If you really want to,” he says slowly, has to force each word out, one by one, “I will fuck you like that, one day. Almost dry, far too hard, until you’re aching with it. But when that happens, it will be when you’re otherwise completely healthy – when there’s no other pain to distract you, no painkillers in the game to dull the sensation. Are we clear?”

John blushes.

It shouldn’t be possible, in this situation, but he does.

“Yes,” he whispers, licks his lips again and nods.

Jedikiah mirrors the move. “Good.”

Because then they’ll know. There won’t be any doubt about whether John wants to be fucked like that because he actually enjoys it, or because – in some twisted way – he thinks he needs to punish himself by causing himself harm through an act that should bring pure pleasure.

For now, Jedikiah will continue being careful with him.

He positions himself on his knees between John’s spread thighs, then lets his right hand stroke over John’s left calf, closes his fingers around his ankle. He lifts the leg up and over his elbow, then pauses. “Is this comfortable for you?”

“Yes,” John says, but he doesn’t look relaxed.

Jedikiah’s eyebrows draw together. “Then what is it?”

John closes his eyes. “I … I’m sorry for … making you mad … I didn’t mean to –“

“Hey,” Jedikiah interrupts him, almost lets John’s leg fall in his haste to bend over him and cover his face in kisses, “hey, hey, hey – no, I’m not mad – I’m not mad at you, don’t you dare think what you want could ever make me mad … I just don’t know why you’d want me to be rough with you, and I don’t want to hurt you … don’t you understand that?”

John lets out a ragged breath and slings both arms around Jedikiah’s neck.

“If you want it rough, we’ll do it rough, no problem,” Jedikiah carries on, presses another kiss to John’s cheek. “We can establish safe-words, it’ll be fun.”

The announcement startles a surprised huff of amusement out of John, and Jedikiah lifts his head so he can look him in the eyes. “Are you comfortable now?”

“Yes,” John says, gratifies him with a smile, “I’m comfortable now.”

This time, Jedikiah believes him.

 

John is quiet, when Jedikiah pushes into him, but his eyes are wide open, and they tell Jedikiah everything he needs to know. He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, and John accommodates him easily.

Jedikiah stops once his balls rest snugly against John’s ass, and puts his fingers around John’s cock – only half hard after the emotional turmoil of the last minutes. It swells quickly enough in his grip, though, and John bites his lip, tries to hold back a moan.

Jedikiah doesn’t tell him to let it out. He doesn’t really start to move, either. He stays where he is, buried as deep in John as he’ll ever be, and starts to jack him off.

John gasps and tightens around him, and Jedikiah has to hold back his own groan. The pressure around his cock is delicious, and every cell in his body seems to scream for him to move – just move his hips, only once, and then maybe a little bit more, to please, please start pushing and –

“Jed!” John finally exclaims, his voice nearly breaking over the one syllable, and he tightens around Jedikiah like a vice. His cock is leaking precome all over his stomach. “You’re … you … I’m so …”

“Full?” Jedikiah guesses, has to press the word out from behind clenched teeth. “You like that, don’t you? Wanted to feel me – and I promised you would.”

He tightens his hand around John’s cock, moves it faster, rougher. “I’m just keeping my promise.”

John almost sobs in answer, tries to gain some leverage, tries to move, to fuck himself on Jedikiah’s cock.

Jedikiah watches him for a few delicious seconds, then takes pity on him. “Grab the headboard. Do it.”

John immediately does as he’s told, and Jedikiah lets go of his cock in favour of putting his hand on John’s hip, spanning the fingers of his left over John’s right thigh.

When he starts to move, John lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a broken sob, his knuckles turning white from gripping the headboard too hard.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jedikiah tells him, unable to stop the vicious grin from spreading over his face. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He keeps it careful, despite the words, searches for the right angle, and, once he’s found it, when John scrunches his face up and lets out a low, hungry moan, he zeroes in on it.

John’s body goes taut, and then relaxes, turns utterly loose with pleasure. It’s beautiful to watch, and Jedikiah can feel his climax rush at him, can feel it build at the bottom of his spine.

“Come on, darling,” he says, watches John’s grip on the headboard slip and softens his movements automatically, “it’s time.”

John groans and comes – if from the slightly different angle or his words, Jedikiah doesn’t know. He doesn’t particularly care, either. Being witness to John’s release drags him over the edge as well, and he comes hard, has to close his eyes for a few heartbeats.

John lies before him, when he re-opens them, panting, covered in his release. The sight will never fail to excite Jedikiah, even if his cock refuses to get hard again so soon.

He pulls out carefully, and then stares at where his own come slowly leaks out of John – swallows dryly.

The sight is mesmerizing, even more so than the other, but Jedikiah’s arousal is mixed with guilt, and quite a bit of shame. He _forgot_. He simply _forgot_.

All this talk of protecting John, of not wanting to hurt him, and now this.

He hears John sigh, watches him stretch and relax his body – and then John moves his hand, moves it down to his hole, lets his fingers brush over the swollen ring of muscle, and something in Jedikiah _breaks_.

“I didn’t even _ask_ you.”

There was a smile on John’s lips, but it’s gone now. “What?”

Jedikiah forces himself to stay right where he is, instead of getting up and pacing the room like he wants to.

“I should have asked you, if you were okay with this,” he says, as steady as possible in the face of John’s obvious confusion. “Of doing it without a condom.”

Understanding settles on John’s features, and to Jedikiah’s surprise it’s laced with satisfaction. “I am okay with it,” he says, and of course he would. “I’m clean, you know.”

“Yes, I know!” Jedikiah says, far more calmly than he feels. “I’m clean, too! But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t just _take_ you, without asking for your permission, first!”

John blinks a few times, and then his smile returns. “Come here.”

Jedikiah stares at him. “What.”

“Come here,” John repeats, along with inviting hand-gestures. “Please. I want to kiss you.”

Jedikiah will probably never get used to how relaxed and self-assured John can be after his orgasm. That doesn’t mean he won’t do as John asks him to, though. So he leans over him once more and lets himself be kissed, lets John put his arms around him and hold him until they’re in danger of gluing themselves together.

Only then does he get off John – with one final kiss and a last, somewhat shameful glance at John’s naked body, at the way Jedikiah’s come is still leaking out of him – and goes to the bathroom to prepare the promised bath.

He could join John, he thinks, while turning on the water. After all, there are some areas John will probably need help cleaning with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think this didn't get completely out of hand and drove me bonkers halfway through, you're wrong.


End file.
